


Good Continuation : Eliza

by JLKnox



Series: Principles of Gestalt [5]
Category: The Rook (TV 2019)
Genre: F/F, Flirting, Lesbians, Multi, Netflix and Chill, Queen in training, So much talking, international affair
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-08
Updated: 2019-09-09
Packaged: 2020-10-12 14:43:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 14,244
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20566058
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JLKnox/pseuds/JLKnox
Summary: Myfanwy finally returns to work at the Checquy -- and Conrad sends her on her first political foray with Eliza as security detail. They are sharing a hotel suite, but sorry, there's more than one bed.--Later that morning, Alex just happens to be stretching his legs as Myfanwy walks down the hall to see Ingrid. “Oi, Rook, found yer way back, dintcha?” She smiles and I tuck her hair behind her right ear, exposing just a bit of the undercut. Eliza comes out of the ladies’ room and walks alongside. “I heard what Conrad said about keeping this assignment pretty,” and I roll her eyes so deeply they twinge a little.





	1. Travelling for Business or Pleasure? Business

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Rey_Burkle](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rey_Burkle/gifts).

> The principle of good continuation states that humans tend to perceive each of two or more objects as different, singular, and uninterrupted object even when they intersect.
> 
> So it makes sense that this chapter would have two parts. 
> 
> Also, I couldn't bear to cut anything and it is way too long. Part two will post soon, I promise.

There are still a couple weeks until Myfanwy is scheduled to return to the Checquy, and although she maintains she needs time for herself, she and I both do a good job of finding ways to see each other. Robert joins her on another run, she goes to brunch with Teddy and Eliza, and she asks Alex to come with her to a yoga class. It’s not the same as seeing her every day at work, but I’m glad she’s open to allowing me to be a small part of her life, regardless.

On the first day she’s due back, Alex brings up the cam in Myf’s new office but it’s Eliza who watches with interest. She knows about Myfanwy’s first active assignment and is curious how it will be accepted. The pawn assistant who is splitting her time between Ingrid and Myf meets her at her office door with a coffee.

“Meeting with Grantchester right off, you have…7 minutes to get there. Then Ingrid wants you at 10 til lunch and you’ll stop back there after tea to finish signatures. Otherwise, here’s an itinerary for your first op next week and dossier of people you’ll be meeting with – talking points, outline, and specifics.”

Myf has just enough time to freshen up from the trip in and get to the King’s office. Slightly late. Alex switches the monitor to inside the office after enjoying watching her leave. I don’t normally listen to Conrad’s meetings – boring as shit – but they all have to be recorded for transparency, so I might as well find something out.

“Ms. Thomas, thank you for joining me. Between us, there are changes coming to the Checquy and it’s uncertain as to their exact nature. Now, I was not dangling a carrot when I said I needed a Queen, and the types of diplomatic ops you proposed are much like what I used to do in that position. But I want to try the plan you brought to me for say – 180 days – and see how you adapt to it, and see what changes come in that time.” He looks up at her and into her eyes. “Does that seem suitable?”

“I think that’s understandable, yes,” she nods, “and since it was what I proposed, it was what I was expecting.” He nods along with her. What a wanker – if she’s not going to be Queen, why move her all the way to a different floor? Robert’s face gets a little pouty while he’s sitting at a café. Unintentionally, it works on his mark and she gives him a flirty smile.

“Alright. Your first foray is next week. I’m arranging a series of meetings around Europe as a cooperative effort with Amnesty International. The Checquy and New Glengrove are under serious scrutiny for, as you said, treating EVAs like weapons. Bishop Clifton is very good at her job, but she is just one woman; she could use help with a direct touch, and a sympathetic face. And it definitely won’t hurt to have allies in more corners – a dodecahedron would be nice.”

“I’ll look over the talking points and send you any questions or revisions I have by tomorrow. I appreciate the opportunity, sir.”

“Revisions?” The King looks up, one eyebrow raised.

“’Course. I can’t be a believable sympathetic face if I’m saying things I don’t believe.”

He sighs, deeply. “Of course. You’re off to Brussels, and then you are coming back for de-briefing before heading to Paris and the rest of the tour. If this first one doesn’t go well, Thomas, understand that it may affect the trajectory of both the tour and your advancement.” He glares at her steadily, but not threatening. She stands up to go.

“Absolutely. Thank you again.” She makes her way to the door, pausing once more to look at the model.

“And Myfanwy?” She slowly turns on her heel. “We’d like to keep this visit pretty, so Bishop Clifton will accompany and you’ll be taking Eliza with you as your security detail. Alex will surveille from here.”

She nods and quietly rolls her eyes to herself as she walks out the door – an expression mirrored by Eliza. Pretty? Of course, send the women. Every man is a chauvinist somewhere inside.

\--

Later that morning, Alex just happens to be stretching his legs as Myfanwy walks down the hall to see Ingrid. “Oi, Rook, found yer way back, dintcha?” She smiles and I tuck her hair behind her right ear, exposing just a bit of the undercut. Eliza comes out of the ladies’ room and walks alongside. “I heard what Conrad said about keeping this assignment pretty,” and I roll her eyes so deeply they twinge a little.

Myf snorts and looks right at me with a grin. “Don’t worry, Lye,” damn, there’s that twinkle, “I have a plan.” Eliza’s elegant eyebrows raise at both the nickname and the idea of a plan.

With a small twitch of her pale lips, I say, “Plan? Yes. Nickname? No.”

Myf laughs into her office and says, “No?” as she backs through the glass door. All the bodies relax – feeling just a little happier now that she’s across the transparent hall where I can always see her if I want.

\--

Five days later, we’re on a train to Brussels. There’s a reserved private car on Eurostar for government officials, and Teddy and Alex were both assigned to check it – physically and electronically – before departure, which gave most of me a chance to give her a tiny goodbye cheek-kiss. We’d rather Myf not mess with the electronics of the railway should she need to defend herself, hence triple-checks and extra cams are necessary to stay ahead of any threats. I’m armed as well is Clifton’s female bodyguard, so hopefully it won’t come to any sooty fingers. No one’s entirely certain whether Conrad’s message is that women need protecting or that women can protect themselves, and asking the Bishop just gets a shake of the head and beleaguered sigh.

She sets up in one corner of the car with laptop and wineglass, so I direct Myfanwy to the diagonally opposite corner. I can justify it by saying any assailant would not be able to attach them both before one of the security detail was able to retaliate. It doesn’t hurt that it gives us a chance to talk together in relative private for the three-hour trip.

Myf’s chosen loose linens for the ride, in an unbleached cream with an emerald shell and her hair down with a near-center part. I mean, I always think she looks great, the green really does bring out hidden colors in her eyes. I get a little lost for a second, looking at her.

“Hey, RBF – “ she waves her hand in front of my eyes, then steps a little too close for professionalism, grinning. The boy bodies all jerk out of a bit of a daze, as well. “I’m glad to be here, with you, too … but maybe you should look alert?” She tugs on my pinky – something she only does with Eliza, for some reason – and moves back. “Where were you at? You looked miles away.”

I force Eliza’s face to smile, hating that women are expected to smile pretty most of the time or be accused of having Resting Bitch Face. But a faint blush hits her cheek as I think of something corny to say and then bite it back. She notices and is having none of it, goading me until I say it. “Do I get to say I was lost in your eyes, or are we not there yet?”

She blushes and shrugs with a hint of a smile. “We’re wherever we are. If you want to say it, I won’t tell you to stop…”

“It’s said, then. The green is a very fetching choice.” I finish arranging my things with a view of as many entry points to the car as I can manage with only one body, and make eye contact with the cameras since Robert is on duty until Alex gets back. “I’ll just do a final sweep, then. Back shortly.”

I check in with each camera and Bishop’s detail, also in plainclothes. We’ve gone over the security plan before, but it’s always good to touch base. Nothing left to do, I head back to our corner. Myf has some files out but not open, laptop under her feet but phone out. To be funny, I texted her goodbye separately from each of the boys.

“Have a lovely trip!”

“GL Myf – got my eye on ya.”

“Oi. Ta.”

She’s snorting as I sit down and get settled. “Why did you do that?” she asks, but I can tell she liked it.

“Why not? If you’re dating 4 people, you might as well get 4 times the attention, right?”

“But in different voices, though? You know I don’t need that.”

“At some point, it became more natural, and it’s like any other habit.”

“Do you actually think in four different voices?”

“Don’t you?” I look at her to see how she reacts.

“Uhmm…well…not with different names, no.”

“But you talk to yourself. And you voice different thoughts, opposing thoughts, alternate points of view. Like when you’re sorting something.”

She nods, chewing the little bit of hair that still reaches her mouth. “Sure, I guess most folks do.”

I tilt my head back and forth, explaining, “It’s like that, but I got used to saying specific things from specific mouths. Makes it easier for me, too – keeps me from doing the annoying thing where each body says a different word in a sentence or talking in unison.”

She takes my hand on the table. “I don’t find it annoying, I think that it’s just you.” She looks up and leans back in her seat. “But if it helps you, then that’s great. I think it’d be useful to hear my different conflicting thoughts from different mouths.” She pulls the corners of her own mouth down and nods her head slightly.

In some way, this kind of conversation is the kind that OldMyf and I would never have; she was so used to us. But in another way, it was the kind of conversation we _had_ never had – she had never asked. Getting to know this Myfanwy has really made me wonder how much OldMyf actually understood, or if she just put certain things in a box marked “Gestalt” and never thought to investigate further. The smile that spreads across the bodies faces is smaller, and makes me feel a little warmer than usual, thinking that this NewMyf is curious about me.

“This is nice,” I say, showing her that genuine smile.

“Yeah,” she smiles back and squeezes Eliza’s hand again. “It is.”

We chat and joke for some of the trip and when things fell a little slow between us, she suggests a game: Playlist Roulette. On a music app, you put it on shuffle and bring up each one of your playlists and then explain why the randomly-chosen song is there. Or justify – if it’s really horrible.

“I was reading about it online, as memory triggers, and a lot of commenters said they used it as a way to get to know other people. Will you? Think of all the ways it could help…”

I nod and have Robert log in to the account shared across all my devices and scan for anything which needs to be deleted immediately. “Did I say no? I think it sounds fun, but I’m not sure we have any musical memories together…” Cripes, four bodies amass a ton of shite. Alex has joined in the effort and some things are discreetly disappearing.

We go back and forth, laughing at the silly ones that put us in better moods, sigh at our wallowing tracks, get ideas about what to exercise to – I have so many different playlists for that since we all exercise differently. Peeping over my shoulder, Myfanwy points at a playlist I haven’t touched yet. “Empty? What’s that? More wallowing?” Four throats swallow nervously. “C’mon, let’s have one.”

Well, maybe it will help her remember something, or maybe I will just lie. I hit shuffle, and of course “Wait” by NoMBe comes on. I was looking at it earlier and even though I knew it was only temporary, I couldn’t make Robert’s thumb delete it. We all blush. Teddy and Robert tear up.

“Sultry – I like it. Doesn’t seem very ‘Empty’ though…” Her voice slows down as she says it and she hears the wordplay. “Emmmmp-Teee.” She looks up at me. “M. T.” A blink. “Me?” I look down and nod and back up to her. “So these songs meant something to us?” I shrug one shoulder.

“They meant more to me. Some were songs we heard together or …” A smile beams across her face.

“That’s brilliant! Maybe these are the ones which will help!” I am dying, squirming in my seat. I pretend to ponder it while the wretched song keeps playing and Eliza’s face gets deeper and deeper red.

“Maybe.” I clear Eliza’s throat. “Maybe later. At the hotel?” I move to stand, “But for now I will be right back.” I lock the lav door behind me and take some deep breaths. I reach into Eliza’s blazer pocket and pull out a bottle of water to splash on her face – definitely don’t trust tank water from the train. I send Robert on a run and have Alex do some stretches. Teddy’s rarely in the office, but since he’s there, he can watch the cameras, although I really doubt there will be an incident as we cross the channel.

I dry off, walk down to the Bishop’s end and make eye contact with her security. A small headshake and even smaller eyeroll tells me everything is fine.

“Eliza?” I turn back to Clifton who is calling after me. “I know Rook Thomas and I have gone over this, but I’d like to run some notes one more time before we get there. Can you send her over?” I breathe out a sigh of relief. With just under an hour left in the trip, I was not sure how we’d recover without getting awkward.

I walk back and give Myf the message, making a slight pout and putting a little sigh with it to say I wish she didn’t have to go. As she walks over, I bring out my phone and look at the song title again, Eliza’s thumb hovering over it and still not marking it for deletion.

\--

The arrival goes smoothly: Amnesty International meets us at the station with a security detail of their own; we make it to the hotel, see the meeting room where tomorrow’s press conference about the new cooperation will be held, and make our way to our rooms for a slight refresh and light meal before the afternoon sessions began. As another potential reason for the same-gendered security, each of us is stationed in a suite with our charge.

The rooms scan clean and I put up the surveillance and connect back to the Checquy. While Myf showers, I meet with the whole security team and do a more thorough walking tour of all the points of egress. The afternoon sessions aren’t open to the public, so there’s not a lot of cause for me to stay, but I am not about to lose her again so soon. Sure, it’s been over a month, but that day when I had to call for Drawbridge Protocol – I never want to feel like that again.

Eliza’s heels are practical and in supportive boots, but it is definitely different to be upright all day in them than in Alex’s trainers or even Teddy’s Oxfords. At the end of the day, in the hotel suite, I perch on the edge of the tub with the door propped open while Robert goes back on surveillance. After a very quick soak, I swap into pajamas and find Myf in the common room.

“We were gifted a bottle of red – it’s on the counter if you’d like some.” She’s drinking out of a water tumbler and I consider it, but still feel as though I’m on duty. “I know you drink Scotch, is wine a thing for you?” I sit down next to her, cozy on the loveseat, and give it some thought.

“It’s not my go-to, but I don’t hate it.” She nods and swirls her glass.

“I don’t think it’s much my thing, but I guess that’s what you give women as a diplomatic present.” She gets up and walks over to the counter. “So if neither of us like it all that much, maybe it will be better together. _And_ with the Great British Bake-Off?” She’s poured me a glug and makes her way back over, sitting down without the careful distance I’d put between us.

Robert’s leg is bouncing under the table in the surveillance room at the Checquy, and Teddy is pacing in our flat. Alex is distracting with a videogame. I’m definitely not thinking about sleeping in a room in a suite with Myfanwy, allegedly protecting her and instead lusting after her. Definitely not.

She places the glass in my hand and cheers-es it despite me being off in the middle distance again. I come back and smile and cheers, then take a sip. “So who’s winning?” I say, nodding at the telly. She fixes me with an incredulous look.

“Gestalt. Have you _seen_ – God, it’s not about winning! It’s about looking at cakes and watching how barmy Mary Berry is.” She clinks her glass to mine again. “Drink more and look at cakes, nutter.” She giggles a little and leans in. Eliza’s rigid posture doesn’t really snuggle easily, but I try.

She adjusts her weight and starts playing with the end of my hair while one hand twists around my pinky again. She taught Eliza to pinky-swear at Glengrove and I don’t think she consciously remembers, but knowing she’s touching me – voluntarily, on purpose – is a warm feeling. Or maybe that’s the wine. She starts talking through the show.

“Well, I don’t know if you noticed, but the head of Amnesty over here is a woman, and about 2/3 the diplomats are, too. So that’s what Conrad’s up to, with all the women.” I nod and try to relax a little more. “Most of the men are being pretty back-seat, but there’s a blowhard or two trying to take over the entire meeting … because penis, I guess?”

We both snort a little and I quip, “I can tell you on good authority, that every individual with a penis is much more rational and a better leader than a woman with the same training.” Myfanwy lets out a guffaw at that and buries her face in my shoulder, so I have to keep going. “And definitely more friendly and approachable.” I hold her nearly-empty wine tumbler upright as she loses it. Moving my arm to accommodate her, she ends up with her head almost in Eliza’s lap. I have to adjust the boys’ bodies.

“Oh God, Gestalt,” I exhale slowly and let those rational male-bodies play those words over again in various cadences and don’t imagine any other scenario where she would say that at all. “Can you imagine if we were able to make people understand about Eliza…and…and…” her laughter is making it hard to speak, “and…Teddy!” She’s howling. And I start laughing as well. There is literally no way to make people quickly understand, but would that there were.

“Maybe he should wear a nice frock,” I burble. Then snort a full-on laugh. “Maybe I _all _should!” I put the glasses on the windowsill as we dissolve into full-body laughter.

“Hmmm...you’re all winters with that hair and that pale skin, and we know Alex looks well in red. Silver for Robert?”

“Absolutely not. Robert is in an LBD all day and night long, too. I’m thinking ice-blue for Teddy?”

Myf shoots up to sitting, flailing her arms. “Oh, oh, oh!” she’s about to take off, so red in the face, and I look at her, highly amused but questioning. “Teddy..as…as….as….ELSA!”

That’s it. Ded. Here is our grave. We have collapsed into beings of only laughter and a few loud cackling notes of “Let it go” here and there. We’re doing the gestures and holding hands, pretending to sing the children’s song earnestly until we can’t anymore and just laugh.

Eventually our lungs require oxygen and the gigglefits die down the way they all do, with heaving gasps and chuckles. We’re still tangled up in each other, and now we’re playing with each other’s hair as we drink and look at cakes. This time my fingers rake across her scalp as she rests on my chest and still fiddles with my ends, lacing the blonde bits through her fingers and unwinding. “Don’t take this the wrong way, Myf,” I start, and she turns her head slightly toward me, “but tell me you had more than the one glass of wine.”

Her pretend innocent face hasn’t gotten any better, or she’s not trying that hard. I squeeze her shoulder, smile, and plant a kiss on her temple. We sit there like that until the end of the programme, with only a few unprovoked giggles here and there when something reminds us.

“Look at that gorgeous cake/Look, the sweet brunette won,” we say, simultaneously. She rolls her eyes at me again. “It’s always got to be about winning with you, doesn’t it?” She says, and I’m fairly certain Eliza’s face is looking at her like she’s a right prize. “You did get me through an entire day without mishap,” she says, eyes glinting, “so you do win a prize.”

The kiss she gives me starts more slowly than the one she shared with Robert, but is deeper and lasts longer than our interrupted infirmary snog. As Eliza’s hand traces down the side of her cheek, Myfanwy reaches up to bury her hand in my long hair and gives the tiniest of moans. I deepen the kiss, breathing through her mouth and teasing her tongue as my hand slides down her shoulder and very slowly pulls her closer to me. She slows and very gently pulls away.

“I…I do need to go to bed.” She licks her lips and presses them together. I nod. “Early morning and long day tomorrow.” I nod again. She touches the side of Eliza’s face while looking into my eyes. Her pajama cami is a shade of mauve, and those beguiling green flecks in her gaze are harder to see. It doesn’t keep me from looking. She blushes more, so I slowly extract myself from the sitting room. I kiss under her jaw and whisper a goodnight.

As she gets up she looks at me before disappearing into her bedroom. “Gestalt?” I look over my shoulder. “Just so you know – we have reservations for dinner tomorrow night. I dropped a pin to you in case you want to inspect it beforehand.”

“Oh, thank you. I’ll – I’ll meet with the security team and see when we’ll head over there to make sure everyone is safe.”

“No – sorry, it’s not a state dinner.” I raise my eyebrows. “There was a scheduling conflict so we’re ending early tomorrow. Bishop thought we might as well make use of the rooms an extra night. The reservations are for you and me.”

Eliza’s face smiles and I say, “That sounds lovely. Looking forward to it.” Robert bites his knuckle while Teddy hops up and pumps his fist in the air. Alex – and Eliza – go to draw baths.

\---

Myf is companionable in the morning – she’s not _not_ a morning person – but I wake before her. Remembering her newfound enjoyment of coffee, I make her a small pot as I warm the water in the electric kettle and make my own tea from the kitchenette. I hear her shower turn off and a few minutes later, she appears in a robe. “That smells amazing,” she says as she makes her way past me, touching my arm for a squeeze as she goes by. She leans over to inhale the coffee fumes, but then flicks on the kettle again. “But tea first, _then_ coffee.” She grins as she unwraps a teabag and pours the quickly-reheated water over it. As she passes by me, she leans in quickly, planting a kiss in front of my ear. “It was sweet of you, though, and I’ll take it to the meetings today.” I would have happily dumped the coffee and remade it twice over for the smile she gives me as she disappears back into her room.

The day is grueling, made even longer by the promise of dinner at the end. The reservations are for 9pm, and the meetings are scheduled through 6 – I guess that counts as stopping early, but the mingling and diplomatic goodbyes will drag on for hours.

I barely listen to the content, half my brain on high-alert for potential threats and the other half cursing myself for not bringing an “in case” outfit. I mean, Eliza is in plainclothes and she has lovely clothes, but a date did not cross my mind on a work trip. I have Alex google “luxury shopping Brussels women’s boutique” but since it returns results for Abercrombie & Fitch and Urban Outfitters, I do not trust it. “Goddamn capitalism”, I mutter under Eliza’s breath, apparently at an appropriate time because one of the other ops agents raises her eyebrows and nods appreciatively.

A text to Daniela from Robert’s phone will sort it, and soon I have a few designer options on Rue Louise which promise to have at least one piece waiting for me at lunch. Teddy is actually looking in my closet, and I think of having him run to catch the next train, but opportunity-costwise, shopping will be cheaper. I jerk my head up, pretending to see something, make eye contact with the Bishop’s agent and move in a coordinated fashion to one of the side exits. We slip through the door with our hands on our pieces, but not drawn.

Through the door, I relax Eliza’s posture. “This is fucking grueling.” She looks confused. “Oh, yes, I just needed to talk to you – off comms.” Not that it would matter since Alex knows anyway, but of course this is all recorded. “I need you to handle the lunch break, I had an odd situation come up and I need to check it out.” She nods, still confused. “It’s personal. I wouldn’t normally do this, but family is weird.” I smirk to let her know that I know exactly how weird she thinks my family is. And who knows? Gestalt could be from Belgium, most folks don’t dig too deep.

“It won’t be a problem, ma’am. Is there backup?” I nod, reassure her that Gestalt is on visual and I’ve asked the hotel for an extra security staff – all of whom I vetted prior to arrival. Alex makes the calls as Eliza’s speaking, that was a good idea on her part.

“I also just needed to get out of there for a second. Times like these, I wish I smoked.” I lean Eliza’s RBF back and exhale slowly. Security detail is excruciating: being on high alert for no reason for hours upon hours.

“Really?” the other op asks, “I think it’s fascinating.” I look up. “Especially what Rook Thomas is saying about EVA training being self-directed and service being optional – no more conscription to ‘pay back’ the cost of your education, if you don’t want. But financial benefit if you do.” The op looks utterly entranced, and I feel a little proud to be connected to Myf right then. I nod appreciatively and cover.

“Of course, it’s an exciting concept if you’re hearing it for the first time. Thomas has been rehearsing her speech for a week, though, so it’s just so much noise to me.” Dammit, I should have offered to listen to her rehearse her speech. I am pretty rubbish at this dating thing. Then again, she never asked.

We each take a deep breath and go back into the summit, making tiny headshakes to assuage people the threat is neutralized.

\--

At lunch, I rush to the shopping district and through the tourists to get to the actual boutiques. Eliza saunters into the first and I put her iciest look on her face and look at her nails, speaking in entirely passable French. “Eliza Gestalt to see my dress to be finished tonight.” The salesperson arches one eyebrow and returns the haughty look while pretending to look through some cards on the desk.

“Hmmm…does not seem to be anything here by that name.”

“You’re mistaken, my brother made arrangements hours ago and I am in a hurry so please get me my dress.”

“Guess-Statt, you say? Let me look again.” They wave their hands aimlessly above the desk without touching anything. “Look at that. Still no.” They jerk their head over their shoulder. “But you can try the rack if you like.”

I roll Eliza’s eyes and scoff. “Thankfully, I have backups. Clearly, you are uninterested in selling. I flip open Eliza’s billfold, flashing an entire row of black, steel, and platinum cards and pull out a card. “If you do happen to stumble across it before 5 o’clock, please text this number. Don’t expect a reply – I’m very busy – but my driver will arrive to pick it up.” I snap the purse closed and spin on her heel. “Ta” I say, in English, without looking back.

But when it happens – or some variant of it – twice more, I am certain something is up and I am no longer amused. Fuming, I return Eliza to the hotel and grab a protein bar off the summit snack table as I return to post; at least this body will be hungry for dinner. I have Alex put some hot water in a tub with salts and soaks his feet while he watches the cams. A pawn gives him a very hairy eyeball, and he just shouts, “Gout! Wanna see?” while starting to lift his foot. She skitters away and all of me chuckles.

I text Daniela from Robert’s phone and receive no reply.

\--

While Myf is doing the social rounds after the meeting, chatting with this diplomat, saying farewell to that, I say over comms I’m doing a lobby sweep. I take a cursory look around in person, but Alex is tapped into the entire hotel security feed so it’s covered. I duck into the hotel’s boutique and glance around. There’s a pink-and-orange number that is not to my taste but appears to be in my size. I approach the salesman to request it be taken off the mannequin. As I walk up, he disappears into the storeroom. I ring the bell. He does not return.

Alex sees Myfanwy looking around nervously, and I return to the meeting room, dressless. I guess the date tonight will be in my black pencil skirt and ruffled pink blouse – the dressiest thing I packed in my weekend bag. As it nears 7, Myf begins drifting toward the doors and catches my eye. She scribbles something largely on a notepad and holds it casually in her arms as she walks under a camera. “Debrief with Bishop, 1900-19.30 Go on up & get ready, be there soon. xo.” Alex is able to read it, so I shrug Eliza’s shoulders, exchange a glance with Clifton’s security, and duck out.

I open the suite door and am torn between starting the hot water for tea or for a shower. Shower wins and I spend a good ten minutes breathing in vapor and wondering just what the bleeding hell made my shopping trips go pear-shaped. As I get out of the shower, I look at Eliza’s body in the mirror and contemplate her features. Myfanwy hasn’t backed away from the idea of her, and Eliza has seduced many a target both male and female. But is Eliza too femme? Too cold? Too rigid? Will I have to act butch to stay feeling like myself? I wonder these things all the time, but it’s never actually gotten in the way of a potential relationship.

Pulling the delicious thick robe around her body, I walk Eliza out to the main room and make some tea, sauntering to my room with the still-steeping drink. I am shocked to stillness at the door, spilling tea all down Eliza’s robe and front: there’s a box on the bed. A dress box. Along the side, it reads KATHELEY’S with the apostrophe-ess in red. Eliza doesn’t react, but Teddy and Robert are both clutching at their chests as if with a heart attack and the Rookery rushes to them as they try to wave away the pain.

I put the tea down on the bureau, and move Eliza mostly blindly to the kitchenette to wash off with cold water. That cunning little cunt – she probably had Humphrey call around and blacklist me. If Daniela was in on it, I’m taking back those flowers. Which are probably dead by now. But still! Alex zooms back through footage and sees Myf place the box there this morning as Eliza was making a second cuppa.

Back in the bedroom, I’m lifting the box open and inside is a small card with a typed note: “Teddy would stretch this out – so I guess _you_ will have to wear it tonight.” Nestled in the tissue is beautiful vintage gown in an amazing shade of … what I can only call periwinkle gray? in two parts, it’s a satin slipdress with a lace sheath overtop. There are silver swirls at the neckline and the hem which mirror the pattern of the lace. As I carefully slide the pieces over Eliza’s head, the neckline shows just a hint of cleavage – she’s a little bustier than it was probably intended for – and the hem hits a little farther below the knee than would be usual. The sheath has three-quarter sleeves and is punctuated with little seed pearls at the vertices of the lace pattern. I’m not sure if it’s actually from the twenties, or if it was made in the sixties to look like the twenties, but it’s been carefully restored.

My fairy godmother has also provided a pair of light gray shoes with a kitten heel – which is incredible because all I brought with me were black boots. They’re a little loose, but she probably just looked at the shoes I have with me, so I tighten the buckle and pray. I kick them off before doing my hair and makeup, and I take a moment to look – truly look – at the finished product once I’m done.

Eliza’s hair is down in controlled waves, brushing past the shoulders. A pale grey lid with shimmery powder and a pale pink lip bring out the notes of the dress and accentuate the blue of her eyes, which appears closer to violet thanks to the hue of the dress. I feel beautiful, delicate, and feminine in a way that I don’t often take the time to appreciate about myself. There’s a lot of energy spent on either proving that Eliza’s body is not disadvantaged compared to my others – or that the femininity is just a weapon to be used against targets, a tactical advantage that the other bodies cannot wield. I don’t often get to enjoy feeling like a woman for the fun of it, although I do try to enjoy the clothes I buy for this form.

I don’t even notice that more than an hour has passed as I sit down to put the shoes back on. Realizing the time, Eliza’s teeth grind – a habit only she has – as I realize that there’s no way Myf will be able to get ready in time to make our reservation, at least, not ready enough to look as good as me.

I check my phone and there’s a text at least. “Running late, be there in a few” from 19.45 – more than 30 minutes ago. A few more paces around the suite, Teddy cracking his knuckles back at our flat the whole time, and finally there’s a knock at the door. A knock? My hand on my bag, undoing the clasp so I can reach my gun, I look through the peephole and simultaneously tense and relax. It’s Myfanwy knocking, completely ready to go, but I need a breathing minute.

Alex is at home and after he completely topples over on his yoga mat, I do not even try to get him up. Teddy stops pacing and places his hand behind him to support his weight on my counter. Robert is on cam duty, and if there were any ancillary staff, they would definitely think he was at a pay-site from the grunt his gives. I open the door.


	2. Business or Pleasure? Pleasure.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> If you read Chapter 1, then you're here for Chapter 2. If you haven't read Chapter 1, then this won't make much sense but it will have both thrills and chills. Seriously, just hit the back button.  
\--  
The waiter asks if we prefer Dutch or French or English, but his accent in English makes us both reflexively answer, “Français, s’il vous plait.” He speaks about the wine and why it was chosen to pair with the entire meal, beginning with the appetizer course of escargot, with which he promises to return in a moment. “Tasting menu,” says Myf, “so we don’t really have to stop and think about making choices and instead just enjoy it.” She smiles and touches Eliza’s hand.

I check my phone and there’s a text at least. “Running late, be there in a few” marked 19.45 – more than 30 minutes ago. A few more paces around the suite, Teddy cracking his knuckles back at our flat the whole time, and finally there’s a knock at the door. A knock? My hand on my bag, undoing the clasp so I can reach my gun, I look through the peephole and simultaneously tense and relax. It’s Myfanwy knocking, completely ready to go, but I need a breathing minute.

Alex is at home and after he completely topples over on his yoga mat, I do not even try to get him up. Teddy stops pacing and places his hand behind him to support his weight on my counter. Robert is on cam duty, and if there were any ancillary staff, they would definitely think he was at a pay-site from the grunt his gives. I open the door.

I think we must have mirrored expressions of appreciation and thirst on our faces, because she looks more stunning than I have ever seen, but her eyes rove over me as if they are hands as she whistles low. “Gestalt – you are so absolutely beautiful,” she says. Not ‘tonight’ or ‘in that dress’ – just an unconditional statement, and I blush feeling the heat spread over my face and tingling down my spine. She slides her hand along my waist to my back and leans down to kiss Eliza’s jaw, close to the pulse point, lingering.

“You look ready to go – shall we?” she presses me gently into the hall. Eliza may have whimpered slightly as the door closed behind us – Robert definitely made another noise as he bit his fist. “Ready to go to bed? Yes, open the fucking door back up!” yells Alex. Teddy is catatonic on the couch, biting his lip.

In a black Givenchy suit, Myfanwy’s right arm, currently around me, is clad in what looks to be an ordinary, but lovely, black tux. In an angle along her back, the material transforms to body-hugging lace on her left side, but joins back with the suitcoat at her waist to flare over what little she has in the way of hips. She’s wearing a silky pistachio-green pocket-square, traditional tux pants, and alligator monkstrap oxfords stained the same beautiful green. Her hair is flipped to the left at her undercut and pinned back in a stark and smooth style. Dark reddish-brown liptint and kohl-lined eyes complete the look. She is walking a razor’s edge of gender play, and if I didn’t have three extra bodies to help with the release, that outfit would spend less time on her than it took to put on.

As we walk to the hotel lift, I try to find words – unrecycled words – to tell her just how gorgeous I’m finding her that don’t sound crass and only sexual. As we wait for it to approach, I decide to just say that. “I’m having a hard time finding the words, Myfanwy – it’s not just the wardrobe, but you do look stunning in it. It’s difficult to form thoughts when I’m lucky enough to have you on my arm tonight.”

It’s her turn to blush now, and she looks down. “I’m glad you like it. _I _like it, and I feel very, very good in it.” The eye contact after that is so charged that I’m fairly certain the lift is going to be strewn with the shreds of our very expensive clothing before we reach the lobby.

The ding brings us back to earth, and of course, the lift is not empty, so we both have to quash that energy and take some deep breaths. While we descend, however, she leans over and whispers, “But one thing – “ and I look up into her eyes again, “I’m going to insist that tonight, you are on _my_ arm.” The color creeps back into my cheeks and the warmth moves lower, Eliza’s chest heaves as I take silent, deep, heavy breaths, slowly exhaling. Alex finished very quickly, but Teddy is taking his time. Robert…poor, poor Robert left at work…is inspecting every inch of every video screen with intensity with his legs crossed tightly at the ankles.

As we exit the lift, Myf stands in the door-eye to keep it open until everyone empties out. She holds out her left, lace-clad arm for me, and I take it with a nod. She raises her hand to the porter and slides him some cash to get us in the next taxi, her hand assists me into the car, she slides in behind me, and we’re on our way.

Shit – I did not vet the venue! I’m so fucking blind. I was so flummoxed by my shopping trip that I did not even look at the pin Myf dropped. Robert pinches himself in the thigh and starts looking up the address in order to get into their video feed. Alex calls ahead and finds out a private room is reserved with only one entrance and a fire door. He barks at the staff until they check it from the outside to ensure that it is definitely locked. I only have their word for it, but at least I get to threaten someone verbally using one of my male voices – the boys are good for some things.

“Where are you at?” She’s waving her free hand in the air, the other in my lap, pinkies entwined. I curl my little finger tight and smile at her.

“The boys are securing the restaurant; I can’t believe I let that slide – I should have checked it out in person over lunch.”

She smiles broadly, nearly a laugh, “But you had to visit _three_ boutiques to try to get a dress, didn’t you? I’m impressed you got to that many and back in an hour.”

I raise an eyebrow in a challenge, “You should know by now that I am ruthlessly efficient. This should not come as a surprise.” She does laugh now, nodding in agreement.

“You’re right, but you kept Humphrey scrambling …he had to enlist Daniela. Sorry to use your own asset against you, but needs must out.” We’re both shaking our heads as the cab slows to a stop in front of the restaurant. She pays the cabbie and gets out, racing around to open the door for me as I shoot her a withering look.

“Are you taking this role-reversal a little far? I can exit a vehicle without help.” She sighs heavily and grins, taking my arm in hers again.

“Is it even possible, Gestalt, to have traditional gender roles while dating you? I can’t fathom it – let alone with this me and this you, together?” Eliza is now on the receiving end of a haughty look. “Will you please, relax, and allow me this? It is much easier for the rest of the world to deal with me pampering Eliza than to see me top Teddy.” We both giggle again at that one as she nods at the maître d’ and walks me confidently back to the private room without giving a name.

As we sit, I get another challenging look, this one laced with humor, and she asks, “Why is it that we always make fun of Teddy, though? I know he doesn’t have separate feelings, but it seems a little unfair. It’s always funny, but I do feel a little bad.”

As room-temperature water is poured and wine uncorked – all without a look from Myf – I consider it seriously, not realizing that I was poking fun at one part of me more than others. The room is small and I take it in, we’re in comfortable chairs at an adequate table with actual candles here and on a mirrored mantle, making the lighting cheery instead of dim. The waiter asks if we prefer Dutch or French or English, but his accent in English makes us both reflexively answer, “Français, s’il vous plait.” He speaks about the wine and why it was chosen to pair with the entire meal, beginning with the appetizer course of escargot, with which he promises to return in a moment. “Tasting menu,” says Myf, “so we don’t really have to stop and think about making choices and instead just enjoy it.” She smiles and touches Eliza’s hand.

“You know,” I say, tilting my head, “I guess I hadn’t consciously realized I do that – tease Teddy more. It’s different for me, it’s like if I only wore nail polish on my right hand, I would never stop noticing it, and I’d expect others to notice, too.” That gets a chuckle from Myf – because Teddy usually wears clear polish. I’m hedging a little, still anxious to tell her everything, but I can get close. “I think in some ways, Teddy’s fake personality is the least developed? He’s a little one-note: the tough one, the intimidator, the muscle. And of course, because people think he’s all brawn and no brain, the idea of him doing something ‘out of character’ holds a lot of humor.”

The waiter returns with the mouth-watering dish, and I inhale deeply, relishing the smell of garlic and butter. I raise an eyebrow at Myfanwy. “I know you didn’t remember what alcohol you like – do you remember if you’ve enjoyed escargot?” She shrugs and smiles tentatively.

“It was on the menu, but I figured plenty of adults haven’t eaten it, so I would hardly be the first to not like it if I don’t.” I nod, appreciating her curiosity and willingness, but she’s back to the question at hand. “Do you ever think maybe it’s because Teddy’s the most vulnerable?” Three heads jerk up at that, the twins making eye contact with each other. Robert is on his way home at last, and his posture changes so quickly at the curry counter that it startles the clerk. He smiles to smooth it over and shrugs. I breathe out and look up more slowly, questioning. “I mean, he’s the body you use for protection – both of self and others, right? So wouldn’t it figure that you would also use humor about him as a self-defense mechanism? Make people relax around you? Make him seem less threatening to the people you want to like you – _all_ of you?” I’m chewing thoughtfully, never having considered this before. “I think most people would think that Alex does that for you, but I’m wondering if Teddy doesn’t help in his own way.”

She stops and takes a small bite of the delicacy in front of her, pondering. She doesn’t spit it out and takes a second bite. Thankfully, these are out of shell and baked around croutons with fresh dill, so there’s no potential embarrassing slippery moments, although they are liberally soaked in the butter I smelled.

“That’s…that’s very perceptive. I’m not sure I’d thought about it that way before.” She smiles and takes another small bite as I look down and see I’ve eaten half my plate. Fuck, these are delicious. “Sorry to change the subject, but what do you think? Of the appetizer?”

Her head tilts back and forth and she takes a sip of wine. “It’s not bad, but probably not something I’d seek out. I think I’ll wait and see what’s next, maybe save room for dessert.” I leave a few on my plate so she won’t feel self-conscious, but look at them longingly as the waiter takes them away. She chuckles, “If you liked them that much, you should have had them all.” I smile and shrug. No one wants a full stomach on a date, anyway.

As the waiter brings out a small salad nicoise, I make sure to catch her eye and tell her how much I love the dress. She looks very pleased.

“I’m so glad! I remember how weird it was, putting on the dress you bought me, thinking ‘is this how Gestalt sees me? Do I have to look like this all the time so they’re happy?’ but I saw this online while I was shopping for me and it just screamed that it would look wonderful on you. I hoped you’d accept turnabout as fair play.”

I look down, a little sad that I’d made her so self-conscious with my gift. She touches Eliza’s chin and tilts my head up. My smile is wistful and I pay the compliment again. “Well your instincts were right, I absolutely adore it. It’s entirely my taste, and a lovely color.”

We look deep into each other’s eyes, the green pocket square highlighting those flecks I love seeing in hers. “I’m glad you like it,” she says, softly, “I love how it makes your eyes almost violet.” We’re on the verge of a moment, but I can’t help grinning broadly like an idiot.

“Funny, that’s what I love about when you wear green,” I say, my eyes moving across her face as we both lean back in our seats a little. “There are these tiny flecks of green in your eyes that only come out when you wear something that color. And it brings out the reddish glints in your hair.”

The waiter clears our mostly finished salad plates and replaces them with a sliver of lemon sorbet.

“You know,” she says cautiously, “I wasn’t quite sold on the green, but I bought the first piece because you seemed so enthusiastic.” Her face screws up a little distastefully. “It’s growing on me. I like how much _you_ like it, so I try to wear something green when I know I’m going to see you. And if I don’t see you, it makes me think of you.” Her grin is slightly wicked. “Annnnnd… I am obsessed with these shoes!” She sticks her feet out, almost exactly as the waiter comes by; he expertly weaves around them with our entrees of ocean bream.

“The shoes are amazing – if any of my bodies could wear them, I would steal them from you in an instant.” I narrow my eyes, sizing them up, “You and Robert may be a similar footsize – what are they, 42?” Her eyes boggle.

“Not hardly! You think I’m a sasquatch! These are 39.5,” she shakes her head with mock disgust and I shrug.

“You’re taller than Eliza and shorter than the rest of me. That’s all I know.” I decide to toss it out there, touching her knee under the table, “and a pretty perfect kissing height in either direction.” She moves her knee into my hand and leans in.

“I have no complaints,” she says, and kisses Eliza just below my earlobe. As she moves back, I take a significant gulp of wine and raise my eyebrows.

“Ready for the check?” I exhale slowly. The fish has just barely come, so I am …20% joking. We stay, but there’s more obvious flirting and touching. When the course is finished, I’m entirely ready to leave – the boys have each finished off at least once, which helps but isn’t the same. Instead, Myfanwy asks the waiter to bring the most delicious chocolate that exists in the kitchen – to share. I know I could physically drag her out of there if I wanted, but somehow I think being womanhandled by your security op would kill the mood.

The waiter returns with the dessert and two glasses of port which the chef insisted upon pairing with it. As we share the indulgence, she moves her chair closer, fitting her knee in between mine. It’s ridiculous and cheesy, but we feed each other the dessert, sharing fluttering eyerolls and soft moans. Her left hand travels down Eliza’s skirt, fingering the fabric as my foot nestles against hers. I want to be exhausted by the cliché when I reach out to smudge away some of the ganache on her lip, and she takes my thumb in her mouth, but I am too busy being incredibly turned on. Her hand reaches my hem and travels under it, teasing my thighs, and my knees fall open involuntarily. I take her right hand and lower it to the table, fork and all, and breathe deeply in, watching her watch my chest. I clutch her hand as she sucks on most of my thumb, whirling her tongue around it – getting the boys’ attention – and slides her left hand up my inner thigh less slowly than before.

I grip her fingers tight enough to hurt her now, just barely in control of myself, and make eye contact with the camera in the corner. “This dessert is heavenly, darling, but I am serious when I say I am ready. To. Go. Now.” Hopefully the waitstaff will correctly interpret this message.

She breathes deeply through the twinge and stretches her fingers out, marked slightly where the fork was caught between them. There was a whimper there, but a hungry look accompanied it, when I squeezed too tightly. _Noted._ The waiter comes and she hands him a card without looking and he returns posthaste – either picking up on the vibe or wanting to escape it or both.

I didn’t stop to see how much cash she threw on the table for tip, but we barely contained ourselves as the valet hailed us a cab. We only just remained decent as we rode in the back, giving the cabbie quite a show of lipstick lesbian liplock. As we walked in the hotel and to the lift, however, I shot her a look, reminding her that the Checquy was in the hotel security system, and we pretended to be calm as we made our way to the door. Alex was porting into the system from home and looping the feed from inside our hotel room to repeat footage of the empty room. Privacy screen.

At the door, I pause a moment while Alex finishes the operation, and smile at Myf. “I’ve had a lovely evening,” I say, just a little coquettishly. “Would you like to come in,” I bite Eliza’s bottom lip and look down, then up, “for a cuppa?” That gets a hearty laugh from her and full-lip kiss.

“I would love that,” she whispers. “Also,” continuing in a normal voice, “All my stuff’s in there.” I smile and let us into the place, holding her back with my arm as I clear the rooms: SOP. I walk through the kitchenette, main room, and as I turn on the light in her bedroom, a dark figure rushes out from her lav. My hand’s in my purse, on my gun and shooting a kneecap before I even register details about the assailant. I hear a muffled cry from the hall and hear a sharp crack – but the lights only dim and for just a portion of a second. Most people in the hotel would likely not have noticed, but a second figure in the hall certainly did, because he is on the ground, stunned.

My hand has Myfanwy’s arm in a steel grip as I escort her briskly down the hall to the stairs, with my gun still drawn. A one-handed grip isn’t great, but it’s better than losing her. I clear the stairs, listening both up and down, before we descend two floors. My keycard swipes us back in, around a corner, and into another empty room as Myf looks confused. My face is entirely serious and locked down tighter than the room as I say, “Contingencies. But if they got into your room, they may know about here.” I keep her with me as I clear the rooms this time, and this one is clean.

Alex is scanning back through video footage, goddamn it I was too fucking distracted by heart-eyes to do my absolute best. Some body should have been watching cams while Robert was on the way home. I was with her, she was safe, I thought. Foolishly. Obviously while we were both out is a perfect time to set up an ambush.

Teddy had made calls immediately and was barking orders to the hotel security team. The kneecap victim didn’t get far – and left a trail as he went. The zapped intruder was in the wind with no tells or leads. Robert zoomed through the hotel cams, looking for any unusual movement, but by the time I spotted him leaving the second floor stairwell and escaping from a balcony, the timestamp was ten minutes old. At least one is in custody and we can get more from him. Teddy’s pulling on jeans and a tee, hair half-unglued, but racing to the airport and arranging a government jet to get here – if no one has gotten anything in two hours, I’ll do the goddamn job myself.

A knock comes from the door, and I am armed to go to the peephole. Clifton’s bodyguard is outside, holding our bags. I open the door quickly and motion her inside, trusting that she took a circuitous route and was not followed.

“Thought you might want these, at least some of your own clothes might feel good after that.” I nod, face blank, but Myf is effusive in her thanks. She goes into her bedroom’s lav and begins running the tub. “She going to be ok?” I shrug, uncertain – there’s a lot to unpack and I’m not going into it with a Checquy colleague. “She changed in Clifton’s room, so there’s her clothes from today in here,” and she hands over a hotel laundry bag. That explains that, I’d hardly stopped to think about where her other clothes went.

I raise a stark eyebrow before she can say anything about our attire. “Is there anything else?”

“Thought you’d like to know – the one we caught is from China. Not sure about the second. Local cops are working on him and I know some Mandarin. He’s speaking too fast for me but I’m going to go back and see what I can do.”

I nod officiously, stating, “I’m needed here with Rook Thomas, but Teddy is on his way and has enough Yue and Wu to get along. He should be here by,” he’s boarding the plane now and it’s 23.30, “02:00 hopefully. Alex is calling ahead to customs so it should be pretty close.” She takes one last look at me, seems to notice my dress, and opens her mouth as I open the door and motion her out.

I allow myself to breathe, and I don’t allow self-deprecating thoughts to occupy Eliza’s part of my mind – that’s usually Teddy’s job and he has more than enough time during the flight when his other productive options are limited. Alex has the ‘Thank God she’s ok’ thoughts and Robert is wallowing a little in the ‘that’s what I get for thinking I can finally have this’ bog. Right now, Eliza needs to be what Myfanwy needs.

Going to the bedroom closet, I grab two hangers and pull off my beautiful dress, now stained with nervous and active sweat. I change Eliza into pajama bottoms and a cami, then take the other hanger into Myf’s bedroom. She’s strewn the gorgeous suit all over – there’s a slight tear where the two fabrics join on the coat. The tux pants are caught in the bathroom door. I knock gently and tell her I’m going to just open it enough to get the pants.

“Can you come in?” she asks, sounding plaintive. I swallow and breathe, picturing her naked – from Glengrove days in the girls’ locker room – so that I’m not overwhelmed when I go in. Mentally prepared, I open the door, picking up the pants as I go. I shut the door behind me to keep the warm air in and hang the pants over the hanger, hooking that on the doorknob before I turn around.

Her face is a mess. She’s clearly been crying but is blank again. I get a washcloth from the sink and kneel down beside the tub. Her hand clutches mine before I can do anything, say anything, and she’s sniffling again.

“Myf, Myf –“ I look at her as I wet the cloth in the warm bathwater. “Myf, you are safe. You are safe.” I wring the cloth as best I can in one hand, and touch it to her face. Wiping the mascara away from her lids, I continue, “You are safe and you protected yourself, Myfanwy.” I look at her, continuing to wipe away the mess. “He isn’t dead. You didn’t hurt him severely. You controlled your power and you protected yourself.” I dip the washcloth again and say bitterly, “Better than I could.”

She lets go of my hand and grips my arm instead. “No,” she is shaking her head. “No, you shot that man for me. You protected me.” I nod, and use both hands to wring the cloth this time and motion for her to look at me. I wipe her whole face at once.

“I did,” I nod again, “And I would every time,” I blink back Eliza’s tears and give Myf a blank slate, “without hesitation.” Her sniffles start up again, but softer and less alarming – without the snotrattle that I know accompanies the feeling of choking or drowning. “We both did our jobs admirably, Rook Thomas.” That brings a slight smile, and she seems calmer. “Your practice has really paid off…but Myf,” I look up at her and take her other hand, “…next time you have to use a little more oomph. He was up and out of here before security could catch him.” She looks stricken and her face threatens more tears. I squeeze her a little and look at her again. “It’s okay, it’s preferable to him being dead. Now Alex and Robert have someone to track down like the obsessive, vengeful demon that I am.” I smile, “And you didn’t kill anyone, you used reasonable force.” The smile turns a little sly, “You can just consider being less reasonable next time.

She nods again and breathes out slowly. “I… I think…” I look at her, questioning silently, expecting the worst. Knowing she will blame my lack of awareness on the date. Knowing she thinks –rightfully—that I can’t be in love with her and protect her at the same time, even though the only thing I want is both. She looks up, “I think I’m done in the bath?” Four breaths exhale deeply, Alex sobs, both in relief and because she looks so helpless. I stand and put my hands around her elbows, levering her up. She’s wobbly, so I hold her weight as she gets out of the bath. Reaching for a towel, I put it in her hands, make sure she’s supporting her own weight, and pull the release on the tub.

When I turn back around, she looks unsteady – I whip another towel onto the toilet lid and help her sit. “Dry yourself off, Myf, before you get the shivers. I’ll be back with your nightclothes.” I look back as I get the hanger for the tux pants, and make my way to the bedroom. Alex has been glued to the tablet, watching halls and the room, so I know things are safe. I get all the pieces of her outfit, grab my dress, and hang everything outside the main door. I call down to the desk again and ask for the garments to be cleaned, letting them know about the small tear for the seamstress.

"Gestalt -- " she calls after me softly, still sounding shaky. I turn around, to hear her request. "I locked the doors this time." She looks down and back up with just a hint of a smile. "I definitely did." 

I hold back a snort and give her a half-smile. "Hard not to, in a hotel." And a half-eyeroll is near involuntary. "I'll be right back." 

I return to the bathroom with the pajamas and hand them to her, leaning over to place a kiss on her head. I leave her alone to change – all sexythoughts gone – and get myself situated in my bedroom. Finally – fucking finally – I click on the kettle for some tea. Two cups are steeping as she wanders out to the main room, slowly, but not entirely dazed.

I bring her a cup and motion her to the loveseat, curling Eliza’s legs under me as we sit. “How are you doing?” She nods and swallows, blowing on her tea.

“Listen,” she starts, and my heart starts its palpitations, knowing that now is when it’s coming – she’s realized that her distracting me keeps me from keeping her safe. “Listen, I know it’s not fair to you,” my heart drops down, leaving empty space below my throat. She looks confused for a second, “Eliza-you. It’s not fair that after such a lovely evening,” she pauses, fighting back a hiccup, “that I’d need you to come take care of me, naked, and not in a good way.” She smiles sadly.

“Myfanwy –“ I take her hand, “sex was not really on my mind right then.” I shake my head. “I almost lost you – you were so shaken…” I want to go into a tirade about how I should have been more alert instead of in a sex-fog, but I don’t want to make this about me. No one was attempting to abduct or assault _me_, this is her ordeal. I’m secondary. “I mean, I _did_ want to see you naked tonight, so I guess I got that…” I used a teasing lilt in my voice. “But don’t apologize for needing help. I would do anything to help you, even look at you in the bath and not jump your bones.” She smiles and sips more tea, and I grab her hand, wrapping our pinkies together while I take some tea myself.

“It’s just, just,” she’s still fighting those tiny hiccups, “tonight, I wanted to make _you_ feel cared for. I wanted you to feel as amazing as you’ve made me feel these past few weeks since you came to my flat with Teddy. I wanted you to see how beautiful, and valuable, you are to me.” She looks up at Eliza with clear eyes. “How much I care about you.”

She twists her wrist and takes my whole hand in hers instead of just the pinky. She leans in and gives me a tender, quiet, steady, unwavering kiss that thrills me in a way completely different than anything since the infirmary. Even differently than that. Teddy lets his mind wander on the plane, and Alex focuses even more intently on watching the bellhop retrieve the garment bags while Robert combs Brussels CCTV for any signs of the escaped assailant. I feel stronger in this kiss, supported by her, hopeful that she’s beginning to feel deeply for me, that she might grasp just a fraction of how I have felt for her for so long.

When we part, there’s no panting, no expectation, no lust – just understanding. Tears threaten in Eliza’s eyes, but fall from Alex’s again – he’s the least busy at the moment. I put his hand to his chest as Eliza brings Myf’s hand to hers.

“You did that, Myfanwy. You did.” I look up to blink back the tears. “I felt beautiful. And seen. And pampered. And cared about.” I smile and snifflelaugh. “And lusted after. Oh my god I would have fucked that dessert right there on the table – and you with it.” She finally laughs for almost real.

“It was so good, wasn’t it? I couldn’t imagine leaving Belgium without having some chocolate, could you?” I shake Eliza’s head, and hold Myf’s hands. There are so many conflicting thoughts right now that not even four bodies can process them. I decide to keep everyone safe.

“Our tea’s gone cold,” I say, and unfold Eliza’s legs, picking up the cups. I take them over to the sink and dump them out before returning to the sitting area where she’s starting to stand up. “C’mon,” I say, holding out my hand, “Let’s get you to bed.” She nods and takes it, but when we get to her door, a replica of where the first attacker rushed me, she balks like a mule. I turn back to her, smile gently, and coax her through. Turning back the covers, I tiptoe up and kiss her forehead. She smiles as she gets in, and I check all the locks again before turning out the lights and heading to my room.

I rummage through my luggage and pull out some ammo, an extra gun, and a couple portable motion-detector plug-in lights. First I clean and reload my weapon – Alex is filling out the discharged weapon report that Myf or Ingrid will have to sign off on – load the backup piece, and place one on the nightstand and one in the nightstand drawer. I walk into the main room, and at an outlet near the front door, I plug in the motion-detector lights. If anyone opens the door or crosses the main room, I’ll know, since my door will be wide open.

Satisfied with the precautions, I move Eliza through some tai chi movements to help the body relax. I slide into bed, and the chemical dump inside the body wipes her out.

\--

The flood of light from the motion-detector jerks Eliza and Robert awake, one gun in Eliza’s hand before she’s even sitting upright and her hand on the drawer. Myfanwy claps a hand over her own mouth so she doesn’t startle the quad into shooting.

“Ok, so that was both intense and makes me feel safe…”

“I’m glad, Myf. Are you okay?”

I breathe out slowly and put the piece on the nightstand and slowly roll my back down onto the bed to make up for the intense jerking motion from sitting up. Robert slows his heartrate and trades shifts with Alex, shoving him awake and putting the tablet in his hand.

“I’m having trouble sleeping. I know – I know this is a lot to ask…” but I’m already pulling back the covers on the opposite side of the bed.

I roll over to face her as she crawls in beside me. My back is to the gun-holding nightstand, but I dare hope that I’ll be okay. It sounds like she is wanting to sleep near me but not with me.

“Asking to be in my bed is never something you need to apologize for. It’s actually very difficult for me to sleep alone as opposed to between my other bodies.” She nods a little too fast.

“Yeah, but…”

“You mean you want to be here and not fuck me.” She nods again. “Will you let me hold you?” This nod is much smaller but repeated more quickly. “Come here, then.” I open Eliza’s arms and Myfanwy cuddles in close. I smooth her hair back from her ear, running my hand over the stubble. “There is nothing I want more than to know that you’re safe.” I put my arm around her shoulder and pull her toward me. “Nothing.”

She sighs and it sounds like she sobs a little. “Thank you.” She leans in, her long legs awkward as the little spoon, but allowing Eliza’s smaller frame to comfort her. “I feel safe with you, Gestalt.” I nod against her neck, my heart racing. Bloody hell, I am never getting to sleep. Even non-sexually, having her here, close, next to me…it’s overwhelming.

In these instances, I usually pull up the “Empty/MT” playlist and listen to my happy associations until I’m calm again, blissfully adrift in the memories of her. She said she wanted to hear it, so maybe it will calm her on some level, too, unconsciously, like the pinkies. I roll over, pull up the playlist and set it to play from beginning to end, chronologically from when we first met at Glengrove to the shock I felt at discovering her memories gone and the happy weeks since we reconnected. I roll back to her, taking her back in my arms.

Teddy pauses, mid-convincing, his fist centimeters away from the attacker’s good knee. “Fink about that, then. Scuse me.” I focus all of my attention on getting him back to the correct mindset, and placing a wall between Eliza’s body and his in my mind. I shake it off, and send Teddy back in, and he walks over and sticks his thumb in the attacker’s gunshot wound in one fluid motion. A stream of expletives bursts forth in a mix of Cantonese and Mandarin, and Teddy resumes the questions.

Eliza’s eyes have spilled the tears I’ve been fighting for hours – it was too hard to redirect them and control Teddy at the same time – and Myfanwy feels them fall on her neck. She turns over slowly, puts her hand on Eliza’s cheek and tries to find my eyes in the dark. I sigh heavily and say, “It’s just been an overwhelming day. I don’t usually get this upset.”

Myfanwy nods and finds my lips in the dark with her hands, then brings her face to her fingers and slowly kisses me again like before, but this time with strength outweighing the need. I meet her there, telling her as many things of my own – how I want to support her, hold her up, help her become, keep her alive, and that I will wait as long as it takes. As much as I want to, I resist letting the kiss speed up or become consuming. She breathes in deeply, keeping the kiss intact, letting her hands stray down Eliza’s neck, and back up through my hair.

Fuck it. Teddy says “I fink everyone needs a break, yah?” Still kissing Myfanwy slowly, measuredly, with Eliza, Teddy grabs some of the laundry line he asked the desk to get him and threads it under the prisoner’s arms in a loop, which he hangs over the showerhead of the bathroom they’ve been occupying. The man’s feet are mere inches from the floor. “Cut ‘im down in…10 minutes? 15 iffee’s a tosser.” I walk him out into the main room, have him shove his hand in the ice bucket he sent someone for, pressing it against his body to take with him, and put his other hand on the door. “I’m out for 30…45…minutes. Emergency reasons to call me: he’s dyin, or he says the word ‘gong’. Ovverwise piss off.”

“Myfanwy…” Eliza takes a breath and pulls back, “it’s been a huge day.” She nods and kisses Eliza’s neck softly. “Myf, I am thrilled… “ her lips tease my earlobe. “Beyond thrilled,” my hands travel down her torso to her bum. “But I’m worried.” Teddy gets off the lift and walks past our door.

“Shut up,” Teddy and Myfanwy say together. She giggles and says, “Thanks, Teddy” to Eliza’s face. He grins and walks two more doors down, tosses himself on the floor and leans against a doorframe.

The kisses are slow and our hands touch each other lightly. Our hands and lips explore, stroking necks, waists, arms, chests. The pace stays steady and neither of us give in to hunger.

She pulls away, and goes back to being the little spoon. I cross my arm over her, putting my hand on her heart. She moves her hair off her neck. I wait a moment and then kiss her there. She draws in breath and touches my face. I kiss her over and over, using my tongue and lips instead of sucking or using teeth, keeping her unmarked for the morning. She clutches my hand over her heart and slides her top leg backwards just a little.

I wrap my leg over hers and press my hips forward against her. I hold her so tightly against me that I’m afraid she’ll bruise. I pause from kissing her to catch my breath.

“Can we stop for a minute?” she asks. I nod in the dark, which she can’t hear, but I lower myself back down to my pillow. We stay that way, hands clasped, and her breathing slows. I assume she’s asleep when she says, “Thank you,” and turns back toward me. My hand transfers to her shoulder now. “I want to be big spoon,” she says, so I turn around, gathering my hair to try to keep it out of her face.

She props up on an elbow, and kisses me as if in a mirror, right behind my ear, down to the bend in my neck. Instead of clasping my hand to my heart, however, her fingers trace a heart shape on my breastbone as she kisses. She bends her knees into mine, interweaving our ankles. Her hand slides over my cami, down to my breasts. She breathes in my ear as she runs her fingertips lightly over my nipple, up and down.

She lays back down, moving her hand back up to my sternum, and we both breathe deeply for a few counts.

“I’m glad you’re here,” she whispers, “that your body was here.” She kisses my hand. “I don’t think I would want to do this with a boy body right now.”

I have no idea what to make of that, but the memory of her hands and mouth on me makes it less important to care. When it’s clear she’s fallen asleep, I take Teddy back down to the makedo interrogation room. He’s much more chill, a little more GoodCop. This doesn’t get much more information from the attacker, but it makes the other ops less worried. Robert, eyes tired from scouring crummy CCTV footage, starts filing for the Chinese man to be removed to England for further questioning.

She wakes several times during the night, and we soothe each other back to sleep with our hands and soft kisses.

\--

When we wake during the morning, it’s still too early to be actual light, but I think I’m done with sleeping for now. She wakes up, groans, rolls over and complains about feeling muscle-sore everywhere. “Yup,” I say, “Adrenaline dump is a bitch,” as I pull her in closer.

“Kiss it all better?” she whines, absolutely killing me. I look at my phone – two hours until the train, if we’re still taking it – and more than 50 messages: texts, calls, and emails combined.

“I wish,” I say, rolling her over to face Eliza and looking her up and down like a snack. “But…work.” I trace the side of her face with my fingertips and give her one long kiss. “Cuppa, instead?” She nods, a sad look on her face that I flatter myself is for me and not this entire buggered situation.

As I scroll through everything except the voicemails, getting the scope of the situation, I pull Teddy up off the couch downstairs and bring him up to this suite. Three teabags sit in empty cups, waiting for the kettle. Myf bungles around in my lav, showering and looking for clothes. She half-pulls on a robe and stumbles across the main room, startling to see Teddy’s looming form in the kitchenette.

“Shh-sh-shhh…s'just me,” comes from Teddy and Eliza’s mouth in unison. Fuck, I’m tired. I have Teddy hand her the mug with her tea, as Eliza keeps re-reading. Some body has read or heard all of these, but we’re all so knackered that piecing it back together is difficult. Teddy comes up behind Myf and wraps his huge arms around her, bringing her mug along with. She takes it and leans back into the hug, deflating a little but tugging the robe closed before making a dismissive noise. Teddy chuffs and kisses her head. “Go get dressed, m’dear. Still workin out howta getcher home.”

She tilts her head up for a lip-kiss, almost childlike. Staying in his arms a second more, she exclaims softly, “I can’t believe you brought Teddy here for me.” I use Teddy to hold her shoulders tight, but angled toward Eliza who fixes her with the steadiest gaze I can muster at the moment.

“I told you – there’s nothing I wouldn’t do to keep you safe. And it’s the thing I want most.” Eliza gives a rare small smile. “It just also happens to be my job, and I love doing it.” He gives her a squeeze and pushes her gently toward her room and luggage. “Now go. get. dressed.”

I make a few calls, trying to keep the anger out of my voice so I won’t agitate Myfanwy as she puts herself back together. It’s rare that I question orders, but I go back and forth with Conrad on this particular issue. He’s unyielding, and I hang up, frustrated.

Myf comes out and I’m jerking luggage around. Teddy is needed back downstairs but I have him check on a time when my clothes will be cleaned and mended and have him _encourage_ the staff to make sure that time is before we leave for the 09:00 train. I call down for some room service, and Teddy sends an ops agent to the kitchen to supervise.

“The train?” asks Myf, “doesn’t that seem a little risky? And if the jet’s here?” I roll Eliza’s eyes, fluttering the lids in agreement. The bacon sandwiches arrive, expediently, with more tea, delivered by the security detail in a hastily-buttoned porter’s jacket. I thank him with my eyes and cover his departure.

“Apparently the jet is going to be used for prisoner transport and local government is acting reluctant. Both China and Belgium want this guy for questioning in their own countries. They’re involving the Queen’s Bishop and it should get sorted in a day or two. Until then, the prisoner here is going to a temporary holding facility and Teddy plus a few ops will stay while it’s sorted. At least that gives me more time to try to find the one who got away and perhaps make a twofer out of this.” I take a breath and a bite of bacon. “Bishop Clifton is _also_ staying and returning on the jet. You – Conrad wants you out of here pronto, so we’re on the way to the station.”

She nods slowly, processing. “I guess that’s good – I really don’t feel safe here, even with both your deadliest bodies around. No offense,” she says, looking up quickly.

“None taken,” I say, looking down, still livid that I failed her so supremely – was so blind when I should have been on my guard. Myfanwy – I feel a lot for her, and I always have – but there’s something about her that just completely overwhelms me in a way that is frankly, dangerous. Dangerous to her, dangerous to my job, and eventually – possibly the death of us.

We pack our things. The egress is much swifter than our arrival, in a secured Hummer and to the back entrance of the train station. As we’re settling in, I tell her that I am going to be standing, alert, securing her during the trip, and won’t be able to sit and spend time with her. I reach into her luggage and pull her Bluetooth headphones out of the pocket, though, and pair them to my phone. I look into her eyes as I start the “Empty/MT” playlist again, from beginning to end. It’s more than three hours, but it’s a start.

She bites her lip and half-smiles, sad that I won’t be able to sit with her, knowing that once we’re on the way, it’s very unlikely that there will be another attack. “Is this us?” she asks, and I nod. She smiles more broadly and gives me a soft kiss on the corner of Eliza’s mouth. “Wait a second – I forgot!” Now she reaches into her luggage and pulls out two long and narrow softly woven silk scarves: one in the pistachio she wore last night, and the other in the perfect periwinkle grey of my new dress. “It might be dumb, but… will you wear it?” I loosely loop it around my neck, the color complementing my trademark baby-pink top. She does the same with her green, immediately bringing that twinkle back to her eye.

I return to my post, but as expected, the rest of the ride is uneventful. She’s safe – for now.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm venturing pretty far into what could be season 2 territory -- if you'd rather see what the showrunners had in mind, you should


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